Poosey Digest: A little more time to think about it

Herb says he’s planting a Victory Garden. “Fine with me,” I say. “You plant it, you tend it, I’ll cook it.”

Herb is always planning a garden. The man could be summed up in a recent bedtime conversation:

“You know, Freida, I’m an idea person.”

“You’re a what?”

“Ideas. It’s folks like me in the world who come up with the ideas.”

“Translated into common lingo that means you don’t want to actually do anything, just think about it.”

“The light bulb.”

“You thought of the light bulb?”

“Edison’s idea for the light bulb. Look where we’d be without idea people.”

“I’m in the dark on this, Herb. Tom Edison was known for working ‘round the clock on a project. He even came up with a system to work non-stop and he existed just on short naps. That, my dear friend, is a far cry from the typical workday of Herbert. S. Crump.”

“I like to nap.”

“Edison didn’t sleep all day. He was known for actually making the first light bulb, not just thinking about it.”

“Don’t matter. I been thinkin’ about a garden.”

“Good for you, Herb. You think the dirt ‘til it’s plowed, then you think those plants into the ground, then ponder the weeding and watering and picking and digging. You just think real hard and maybe that garden will spring up right here on the bedroom carpet.”

“That’s the trouble with you, Freida. No dreams… no plans.”

“No faith in a husband who’s gonna get a bad back after one day of garden work, leaving me with a summer’s toil while he watches from the back porch. Roll over and go to bed, Herb. Your dreams are keeping me awake.”

I suppose Herb was up dreaming most of the night. Trouble is, he had company. Seems like I run into more and more people with great ideas they’d like you to pull off. I can’t count the committees I’ve served on that are peopled with folks with a brainstorm a month, but who seldom lift a finger to actually do anything:

*Politicians who slick down their hair and eagerly jump in front of the CNN cameras to expound upon the values of “working together for the good of the American people,” then rush back to check their donor roles to determine how to vote.

*A whole new generation glued to electronic screens that give them all the knowledge in the world with no idea how to make connections, how to create, how to “do” something with this knowledge that’ll make the world better.

*Complainers about city government, state government, national government – holding forth at coffee shops all around the nation, but who won’t do something as simple as encourage, volunteer, or even vote.

My grandpa always said that the world is generally divided into the “doers” and the “talkers” and if the doers want to keep their sanity they’ll just ignore their counterparts and go on… doing. That’s how worlds keep going. That’s what keeps us alive. That’s how light bulbs are made.

When Herb got up the next morning I’d laid out the hoe, the rake, and a watering can. He looked at the assemblage and said, “What’s this for?”

“Your Victory Garden, Herb. Go to it, boy.”

“I need a little more time to think about it.”

“It’s supposed to rain tomorrow. Today’s the day if you’re gonna plant your garden.”

“Too much on my plate today, Freida. Maybe after the rain has passed.

“Yeah, that’d be a good time,” and he put on his seed hat and headed out the door to meet with his morning coffee club.

Last I heard, the supermarkets still sell lettuce.

You ever in Poosey, stop by. We may not answer the door but you’ll enjoy the trip.